Ashes to Ashes
by Late Night Confidance
Summary: Xana has won, and time has fragmented. Space holds still, but not for long. It falls to a figure from the Present, to travel from the Future, to save the Past. He must only hope... that he doesn't run out of time.
1. Prologue Part I

A/N: Quick note: This is maybe 1/3 of the actual chapter. Posting this because 1. I need some people to see if this even looks interesting. 2. I need

encouragement to get writing, now that I might have time. And 3. I promised a friend I'd get a story up. This is not that story, but at least it's something.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Ashe's Edge: Prologue: A Wrinkle in Time<p>

**Present:**

A lone figure stood at the iron gates of Kadic High, a faded-green trench-coat covered with dust and pale-red splotches one could only hope were ketchup stains.

Probably not.

In one hand he held a small glass chip, no bigger than a pebble. In the other, he held onto the gate's bars. He looked in, with what one could only presume to be either deep longing or deep concern. His eyes were captured by the six students sitting or standing around a small green bench. While this may seem strange, the children were fairly abnormal themselves. One with a strange obsession over purple and his illegally kept dog; two others being masters at martial arts; another two being what one would assume as computer nerds if not for their relative social life; and the final being a slightly disregarded but important nonetheless standalone fellow, although he did seem quite solemn about… something.

The man however wasn't interested in the kids alone; he was starring at the school, at _everything_, like it was something out of a dream… or a memory.

He shook his head, clearing himself of all thoughts. He needed to remain focused, to enact what he came here to do. He couldn't screw up, not again. So with one last attentive glance at the school, he merged into the shadows of the forest. He cut through them, leaping over fallen logs, ducking under branches, occasionally even swinging on a vine to cross a seemingly small gap that turned out to be meters deep. He kept to the shadows incredibly skillfully, and if sawn, might even be passed off as a trick of the light, or a fickle imagination. It'd be more reasonable to pass off an elephant in your house, by the man's train-of-thought. He didn't do anything special, only what kept him alive all these nonexistent years. Yup, nonexistent. It would drive him mad some nights when he thought about it.

Well, it's time to end that; isn't it?

Self-questioning aside, and of course his tenancies to glare at every blown leaf, he was perfectly sane… somewhat. He hadn't truly 'fallen off his rocker', just slipped, or fell asleep during the commercials a bit. He eventually exited the caging greens out near a small road leading to town. Small enough it wasn't paved; but used enough there was a chance of hitching a ride. Of course, the aforementioned red-stained, dirty green trench seemed to ruin any chance of that. So he took the long way, running along the side until he eventually came across a small bike, probably lost off someone's ill-conceived roof-brace. Having no other form of transportation and it being around the right size, he hopped on, quickly diminishing the time it would have taken him to get to town. Too bad for the hiker who returned minutes later to find his bike stolen and his wife glaring at him; so much for their romantic forest-hike.

He approached town cautiously, not wanting to warrant suspicion. He removed his trench and folded it, slinging it over his shoulder so no one could see the stains, of which it is still at your digression to determine their exact cause and fibers of existence. The man stopped what was now his bike – although if possible he would return it… yeah, not probable – first at a clothier, buying appropriate attire before asking for the location of a few other stores, if only to seem like a normal pedestrian. He walked next door to a small general store – appropriately dubbed "The Rugged Wanderer" – getting a bag to store his supplies in, as well as a nice notebook and pencil. One would wonder where he got money for this, and one could be redirected to the poor man who has not only lost his bike but the wallet he so carelessly left in the helmet as well. One must wonder why his wife married him.

Ignoring thoughts of the poor man the strange, trenched-fellow continued his path until he had acquired everything that suited him, clothes, some supplies relevant to that of a student, and a few nonperishable food items. He had also stopped by the local library. However, he did not use the time to catch up on the latest fantasies or government conspiracies, instead using the free-use computers, printing out what one could only assume was an application of some sort. Of course, why he would type up one of those would be a mystery, to all but him. What man would hire a complete stranger, let alone one whose residency was suspicious at best, and looked little worse for wear than a pigeon caught unawares by a large cat.

He paid for the print before returning to his bike and traveling in what would be a form of circle had it not been the exact same way he came: a line, maybe? Nope, not even he was this accurate… but it was scarily close. He brought his new traveling assistance with him though the forest, making it harder than before, but surely worth it when he exited. Which, he did. He exited near the same school whose gates he held only… minutes, hours, days earlier? Time became fickle with a man whom had lived like thee…. and apparently so did the regular English language. He approached the gates with an air of either hope, or pure despise, shrouded only by the shadow the nearly setting sun cast against him. He reached up and pushed the button near a communicator type device, receiving a rapid answer only barely comprehensible enough for him to understand. Name, and purpose.

"Zeitlos Nimmer-Nacht. I am here to see the principle about a possible job."

**Near-Future:**

Ulrich looked over at Jeremie. A small smile spread across the teens face, as he stubbornly tried to hold back his whoop of joy. They had done it, they had finally shut down Xana! All of them stood around the final lever, all of them. Ulrich, Odd, Jeremie, Aelita, Yumi, and even William, now free from Xana. All of them grinned, Odd seemed fit to burst. Finally, William stepped forward, placed one hand on the lever, and pulled down, turning off the supercomputer for good.

Then it exploded.


	2. Prologue Part II

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

A/N: Second part of the prologue, this was supposed to be part of Chapter 1, but it wasn't finished and I wanted to put up the chapter.

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><p><strong>Half-Future:<strong>

Admiral Rorrikstead stood on the viewing platform on the Russian aircraft-carrier Noche, his eyes scanning the line of UAV's which stretched out before him. It had taken many years but the entire Russian air-force had been completely computerized. Now there would no longer be pilot errors, it was foolproof. Already most vehicles had been computerized, and the first fully-automatic naval vessel was due to set sail from the – fully atomized of course – Urezvody naval yard. This was going to be the first actual test to see if the highly advanced, and extremely expensive, unmanned aerial vehicles would actually work. Yeah, building hundred then seeing if they would work might not be the best idea, but come on, it's Russia, they'll find a way to make it work – for example, I just saw a repair man head towards a plane with holes in the wings carrying some cardboard and duct tape. I'm sure he'll fix it up just fine.

Back to the actual point. Admiral Rorrikstead turned to his officers, and was about to enter a long monologue of how this showed just how great he was at leading the advancement of the world's warfare technology – despite just being told of this project yesterday – when one of the UAV's started up. He instead then decided to smack the officer for starting the test without his order. Then he realized something: the officer hadn't spoken either. He turned around and was about to shout at the controllers, when he noticed they were rushing for the door, scrambling to get out the small porthole. Finding this strange, and having a strange sense of forbearing, as if someone was walking on his grave, he turned around. The UAV was floating in the air, and was being joined by mane others, all with a small, yet distinguishable shroud of black electricity emanating from them. The original UAV rose to be equal with the viewing platform, on which the Admiral now stood alone, and turned to face him. Right in the middle of the bottom mounted camera was a single symbol. A dot, surrounded by a circle, from which three prongs protruded downward and a single one upwards. Just before the drone launched a missile, a single word flashed in the camera.

_XANA_

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><p><strong>Future:<strong>

Ulrich pulled himself out of his drunken stupor and pushed himself upright. Of course, it wasn't his fault this stupid chair was in an unnatural shape, how Je- he could stand it for all those years Ulrich would never know. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to adjust himself to the bright light, or lack thereof any light to be more precise. Of course, when you're recovering from a hangover, it does not do good to try to rub one's head. Especially if you are still very, very drunk. Finally, after managing to smack himself awake enough to speak, he called out to the darkness. A small Krankrelat scurried out from behind a pile of mechanical rubbish and approached Ulrich, simply starring at him. He looked to the monster, and asked it "What has Ulrich yet to try?"

The Krankrelat answered back in a series of scuttles and… what appeared to be squee's of some kind. One would only assume it to be equivalent to that of a drunken man trying to act like a dolphin, but Ulrich seemed, pleased, as if he could understand what the thing in front of him was saying. Of course, you also have to wonder why he isn't dead yet, seeing as there was a living… scurrying monster right in front of him.

After a long bout of nodding and squee-ing, Ulrich finally spoke again "Ulrich will have the Cherbonet'tat 1980." Finally having an order, the Krankrelat scurried back into the refuge. Small piles would rise up and fall down as the monster pushed its way to the elevator, pried open lower area might actually have been preferable: for up above there were things that would give you nightmares… of course, you had to be alive to sleep in the first place.

Ulrich snapped out of his thoughts and begun to do more work than he had done the entire past week. He stood up. Walking towards the door, he spoke "Eve, Ulrich wishes to know what his predecessor had planned for today."

A small light lit up from amidst the rubble, and a small screen surged forth, courtesy of the large arm it was attached to, and rose forth to watch after him as he left. A small figure walked forth, dressed in a blue winter coat made of code, and a similar fur code hat. She watched after him as he left, worry evident in her eyes. If she still had her cry program, she would have used it.

Ulrich walked out the door, and into the side room. Following the path, he stepped into the elevator, which had once again lowered down, and took it up to the roof, where he knew the Krankrelat would find him. When the elevator finally opened Ulrich stepped out in a hurry and rushed to the edge, throwing up over it. Perhaps moving so soon wasn't such a great idea.

Finally finishing emptying his stomach of what little food it had left inside, Ulrich stepped back and sat down in the middle of the roof. He took the time to clear his head once more, he'd been doing that a lot lately, and looked around him. Krabs and Tarantulas lined the walls at regular intervals, and Megatanks, Omegatanks, and Ubertanks could be seen patrolling the streets. Of course, this was all for show: there was no longer anyone who could threaten the world… it was long dead anyway.

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><p>Finally, the elevator opened behind Ulrich, and the Krankrelat scurried out, a small platter with a glass and wine bottle precariously stacked on top. One must wonder how it did not spill the platter. One must also wonder how it got said items on top of it to begin with. One must also wonder why one is asking such tedious questions. The Krankrelat brough Ulrich the drink, and slid it off its head with skill that could only have been either programmed in by a benevolent and god-like computer program, or learned by years of wine-serving. Probably the second, I mean come on, who ever heard of a computer program being benevolent… right?<p>

Ulrich of course had no care for any of these thoughts, only that he now had access to more mind-numbing nectar of the gods. Grabbing the bottle, completely disregarding the glass, Ulrich ripped off the cap and began to drink. Finally, after draining the glass with such speed that a college student would be jealous, Ulrich looked up. "Ulrich likes this wine, much better than that American beer."

Just as he was about to order for more, the communicator on his wrist beeped, signaling that Eve had retrieved the desired information. Clicking the button on the side to show that he got the message, Ulrich stood, and with the Krankrelat keeping him from falling over, descended back to the computer room. Finally, the duo arrived, and Ulrich quickly – well, as quickly as a drunken youth leaning on an, essentially, oversized soccer ball with legs, could – went and sat in the seat he had previously occupied. Turning the seat, he faced the screen, and asked Eve to bring up the information. "Ulrich cannot read this, translate now." he asked, once he realized it was in American, a language he had yet to learn.

"Translating," Eve replied, going over and changing it into German. "Translated," she confirmed. Ulrich once again looked over the list.

_Morning: Check security. Fix error resulting in sudden pauses in sector Z2-T09. Re-activate all chemical plants. Check on pets, feed and supply fresh water. Re-activate nuclear plants. Prepare to launch nuclear missiles to remove the country of 'America'. Activate workshops to create an artificial country…_

That was as far as Ulrich got before he realized something was off. "Check on pets, feed and supply fresh water." What could that mean? As far as he knew, he was the only human alive… but he could not let rationality get in the way of his hopes! Kick reason to the curb and do the impossible… or something like that. He need to have Eve look up more cheesy quotes, his stock was running low.

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><p>AN: Little note: Next chapter comes with 4 more reviews as of the moment this chapter is updated with the A/N's.


	3. New Beginnings Part I

A/N: "Half-Future" will not be called "Present", to reduce confusion between Future/Half-Future. That means the previous "Present" will now be called "Past". Thank you for your cooperation. If you want me to change back, or to change the previous chapters so this is irrelevant, tell me in a Review. Authors love them Reviews.

Disclaimer: I own teh nothingness!

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><p><strong>Past:<strong>

Zeitlos heard a sharp buzzing as the gates swing inward to allow him entrance into the school. As he looked around, he realized with glee that Kadik hadn't changed much, if at all, since he was last here. Forty years did nothing to this place. Well, it had changed, but it was for the better, so he disregarded it. So as Zeitlos saw it, he was going to be bringing one big change to Kadik, but if it all worked out, everything would be just fine.

Finally, after looking around from his viewpoint at the gates, he began to walk towards the main office. As he did, he took note of all the areas and how they'd changed or stayed the same. He had to pull at his memories though; forty years scrambled your mind quite a bit. Some important thoughts included things such as: there was where we used to hide from Sis- her; there's the bench we used to hang out at; however, one stood out the most: there's the vending machine, where it all started. One must question what 'it' was, and also who this 'we' was… is… will be… and that, my friends, is why you don't buck around with time travel.

Eventually a strange man came running up to him. Scraggly brown hair and white headband that looked like it should've stayed in the sixties, and a sweat-suit that only a drunk would be caught dead in, showed that this man was most likely the Physical Education teacher… or a wayward hippy. Either or, he wasn't going to leave Zeitlos alone, for he was heading right in his direction. Zeitlos decided to take action.

"Hello there mister-" was all he got out before the man was right in his face. Literally. The man must have been a foot shorter than him yet he managed to get right equal with him.

"Just what do you think you're doing on school grounds? How did you get in here!" He shouted at Zeitlos. A somewhat comical vein seemed to pop out of the man's head.

"Sir, I'm here to see the principle for a possible job. I'm sorry though, I seem to be a bit loss, could you guide me to the office?" Zeitlos asked. To his merit he only flinched slightly when the man had shouted at him, and his answer seemed to calm him down. After a few seconds of thinking, the man backed down.

"So, you're getting a job here? Well good luck, the principle can be one tough cookie. And sure, I'll show you to the office, I used to be a Amazon guide, took groups of people through the Amazon. Want to hear about it?" The man rambled on for a short time, as they began walking through the campus.

"Sure, I'd love to." Zeitlos said. It was the first of quite a few mistakes he would make that day.

Five hours later of walking in what appeared to be circles, Zeitlos had finally had enough of this man's story.

"So," the man was finishing up his latest episode the 'Tales of My Entire Life! Twenty hour straight with no commercials!' "That is how I saved the Canadian Prime Minister from death by ferocious squirrels."

"Uh huh… say, are we close to the office yet?" Zeitlos finally butted in once he had an opening.

"Oh yeah," the man, who had still yet to give his name, said. "We've been walking around it for a while. Zeitlos smacked his face with his palm. His own face, mind you; it wouldn't be kind to smack a strange man, possibly a new coworker, in the face.

**Present:**

First his hearing returned, and the sound of a steady beeping filled his ears. Then, he could smell, and his mind was filled with the nauseous scent of disinfectants and antiseptics. Then, he could feel, and he realized that whatever he was in was still and cold. It felt like hard, cracked leather. Then, he could taste, and dear God he wished he could give it back. It was like someone had decided to pour an entire tube of terrible tasting, thick, disgusting cold medicine down his throat. Finally, the darkness that had covered his eyes cleared. Odd sat up and looked around, finally realizing that he was, as he first feared, in a hospital. Looking around, holding his hand over his eyes to protect them from the overly bright lights, he realized that there were five other beds in the room, but only four occupied. A nurse passed by.

"Excuse me, Miss, there seems to be a problem." Odd spoke out to her. She jumped around, apparently shocked at one of her patients waking up.

"Oh no no no, we can worry about questions later, the Doctor will be right in. For now, you need to rest." She spoke hurriedly, as if something was wrong and she didn't want to be the one to say what. Odd realized what had happened. Even someone as attentive as he could see that something terrible had happened at the Factory, and it shocked him so much, that for once, he spoke nothing. The nurse laid him back down, and pulled the blanket back over him. Slowly, almost unwillingly, Odd fell back asleep.

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><p>Finally, after another six hours had passed, Odd once again awoke. This time, however, he was most certainly not alone. Just after he awoke and rose from the bed, so did the others. In silence, they slowly came to the same realization that Odd had only hours ago. They were there, one of them wasn't. Finally, Yumi spoke.<p>

"Guys… what happened? All I remember is us turning off the Super-Computer and then… an explosion." Her voice was shaky. Clearly she had not yet gotten over the accident which had just occurred. Eventually the others spoke as well. Each voiced what they remembered, Jeremy pointed out that Xana had been contained, and that it must have been a technical problem. Of course, William made sure to point out that the cables were old, and it was very possible that, from overuse, the wires had finally burned out. Eventually, everyone was silent. Aelita looked over to Odd.

"Odd, are you okay?" She asked, concern in her voice. Not that anyone would find out, but she had a crush on Odd, and the silence coming from the normally-outgoing teen was making her… angsty.

Still, Odd did not speak. Eventually a nurse came in and began checking all of their charts. Eventually, Yumi spoke what they all were thinking.

"Excuse me, miss. Where's Ulrich?"

**Future:**

Ulrich pushed himself to a somewhat slumping position over the computer. He called out for Eve. As the Artificial Projected Intelligence program loaded up, he began a search through the computers files for records of any 'pets' Xana may have kept. His searches bore as much fruit as a cactus in Canada… well, what was left of Canada anyway. Eventually Eve emerged from the endless stream of information that flooded the computer. She looked up to Ulrich.

"So, what did you call me for… master?" The title of 'master' seemed forced, as if she both hated him as a ruler, and pitied him for his position. After all, it must be hard to know that once this man is gone, you will have no purpose… he will die, and leave this living limbo, but you, you shall live forever. Well, as much as one can 'live' when stuck inside a metal container, only removing yourself form endless slumber to answer the questions a limited being purposes for you…

"Eve, Ulrich wishes to know where his predecessor kept her 'pets'. Also, Ulrich wishes for you to begin searches for more popular phrases." Ulrich spoke, still pouring over what information could fit on the screen.

"Hmmm… one moment my lord. It appears that the being known as 'Xana' contained all beings in cages, located in some country known as 'America'. Does my lord know this land? There seem to be no records of it currently in file: an occurrence that has never happened before." Eve seemed peeved at this lack of information. Clearly Eve was not pleased.

"Yes, Ulrich knows of America, but…" he hesitated.

"But what, my lord?" Eve inquired.

"It was destroyed, all that's left is…" he began to falter with his imperious attitude.

"Is what, my lord?" Eve asked once more, now beginning to be anxious for the information.

"Ashes…"

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><p>AN: And done. I've decided that all my chapters will be broken in two parts. This is due to the fact that: 1. I can type shorter chunks at a time. And: 2. I get more updates for readers. Also: 3. More chapters = More Reviews. I love Reviews. I breath Reviews.

Every time you read a story, any story, and do not review, an author loses his will to write. I may be next, do not let me lose that will. Review all the stories you read, no matter how old.


	4. New Beginnings Part II

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven't had a chapter up in a while. I got sick, really sick.

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><p><strong>Past: <strong>

Zeitlos resisted from slapping himself, or the strange man next to him, and simply said, quickly mind you – he didn't want the man to start speaking again, "thank you for the assistance, I really must be going."

"Your welcome!" the strange man said – well, if we are going to be honest, he doesn't really talk, more or less shouts all the time (1). After say- shouting his reply, the man ran off, yelling at some wandering kids to get back into class. Zeitlos turned and entered the building.

Now that he was in the building, Zeitlos realized he had no idea what to do now. He slowly walked towards the receptionist, a young woman in her thirties, and announced that he was Zeitlos, and that he had spoken at the gate. The woman only glanced up at him before returning to her magazine.

"Wait here, the Principle will be with you shortly," was all she said to even recognize his existence. Having nothing else to do, Zeitlos sat down in the one of many open chairs. Filling the other many not-open chairs were kids, ranging through all grades. There were sick children who lived off-campus and were waiting to be picked up, children in trouble waiting to see the principle, and there were even one or two parents sitting with their kids. One must wonder why… back to Zeitlos.

He was about to get up and tell her once again that he had a meeting – which he was actually late for, considering how much time the man took telling his story – but was interrupted by the door opening and a man coming out. He looked around the room with a stern, almost predatory glare before finally spotting Zeitlos. His face lightened up, and he almost seemed to smile – probably because Zeitlos was an adult. One must wonder why this man was in charge of kids, he didn't seem very kid-friendly.

Zeitlos knew from… research, that he wasn't as mean as he appeared, but he wouldn't dare say that. Taking the looks he was getting as cue that he was wanted, Zeitlos stood and approached the principle.

"Hello sir, my name is Zeitlos Nimmer-Nacht, I'm here for the open position." He said warmly. To be honest he didn't know what job was open, only that one was.

"Hello Mr. Nimmer-Nacht, my name is Mr. Delmas, but please, just call me Jean. Your German, I presume?" Mr. Delmas started out with small talk about his heritage, simple really, but it would help show how socially adept he was, a big part of being a teacher. He knew enough about the man's skills and credentials – or lack thereof; it was his personality he needed to know about.

Zeitlos' face betrayed him, showing a mixture of shock, unpreparedness, and slight anger flashed across him. "Yes, I'm from a purely German family, I even have some royalty amongst my ancestors (2). Sadly I'm the last one left, so if I go, so does our name – sad really, but I digress, nothing to do with my ability as a teacher, does it. And please, just call me Zeitlos, if you will."

Mr. Delmas noted the careful wording and grave disposition regarding Zeitlos' family, and held back from pursuing that topic. It seemed like it might be a touchy subject. instead he decided that he might as well voice his questions about what the man actually knew about teaching.

"So, Zeitlos, I looked over these papers and it indicates that you graduated with honors from the University of Berlin. However, it fails to indicate a Major and only lists a few, generical Minors. Obviously the transcript just got lost among the way, it has happened a few times, I was wondering if you could fill me in on the missing details." While he sounded serious, the tone of incredulity was clear when Mr. Delmas spoke. It was obvious that what little Zeitlos was able to gather in the day he had been here was not enough.

"Well… Jean, I attempted to locate the original transcripts, but due to a overhaul of the scholastic system many are no longer available. My M.A. was Social Sciences, with a Diplom in Political Science (3). I trained for two years under Dr. Michelson at the University of Boston in America, and then again for another two years under Ms. Smith at the Paris University of Science, here in France."

"I moved back to America and worked in the public school system for a while, before being laid off. Figuring I would have better options in Europe, I moved first to France, and luckily I heard about the opening here. This would be my first job working in a private school, if you discount my intern time at the universities." Zeitlos finally finished his monologue, filling in the blanks the paper did not answer. It felt weird at the beginning to call Mr. Delmas by his first name, but he figured he might as well. Not like he would get this chance again…

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><p>"Thank you Zeitlos, it will be a pleasure working with you. Class resumes Monday, so take the weekend to settle down. I'm glad you don't mind being a dorm-monitor, we usually have the higher grade students do so but lately we've been having problems with the students. Not much, but there are a few groups who seem to just attract trouble, I'll have Jim tell you about them." Mr. Delmas paused for a while, considering if this would be a safe action for his mental health. Finally, he pressed on the button for the loudspeaker and called Jim to the office. Minutes later the man who had originally escorted Zeitlos walked in, speaking – still inhumanly loud – about how troublesome all the students were. Mr. Delmas decided to take action.<p>

"Jim, this is our new history professor, Mr. Nimmer-Nacht. Please show him around and inform him of the students he should watch out for. And do try to keep shouting to a minimum." He tried to be subtle, but resorted to slowly edging Jim and Zeitlos out.

"Shouting? Who's shouting! I'll get those kids running so hard they won't have breath to shout!" Jim spoke, before promptly having the door slammed in his face.

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><p>AN: Hey guys. Now normally I would post all three timelines, Past, Present, and Future. However, I'm coming back from being bed-bound for 3 weeks and do not have much time to write. Not only am I incredibly weak (I lost 25-35 pounds, simply because I could not eat without… you know), but my grades are shot to hell. So, these updates will begin again, but will probably be 2 weeks or more in between. Sorry. More reviews though can convince my parents that writing is worthwhile to pursue and give me more time to write.

1: Don't you even dare tell me Jim ever talks normally. I swear, his inside voice is that of an elephant.

2: I don't know much about Ulrich's family other than his father's side, so my head-fannon takes over here. Also, I'm German, so it's something I can easily write about. If someone wants to inform me about his family though, by all means… review.

3: German schools previously used its own diploma system, I decided to use this as it is traditional, and if I want Ulrich to be from a traditional German family… anyway. MA and Diplom are both about the same as a Masters degree… I think.

Anyway, sorry, but if I feel like something might need explaining I'll do what I did above. If it's annoying tell me… in a review, of course.

Getting the hints?

**MoonlitxAngel:** Thanks for the review and messages. Rereading them gives me the courage (and guilts me into) to continue this story.

_"Every time you read a story, any story, and do not review, an author loses his will to write. I may be next, do not let me lose that will. Review all the stories you read, no matter how old." - Kilo 'E' Prower_

-Kep


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